


S T A R D U S T

by sunset_klance



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: Gay Keith, M/M, Oblivious, Oh My God, PINING KEITH, adashi, bi lance, klance, klance is canon, klance slowburn, pining lance, slowburn, so much pining, stoopid boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_klance/pseuds/sunset_klance
Summary: Keith Kogane did not believe in destiny or fate or zodiac compatibility or stars aligning or any of it.So when the universe gave him a one Lance McClain, he didn't understand. A cruel joke? A prank? It had to be, for someone to put the most irritating person in existence right smack down in the middle of his life.And an even crueler prank to make Keith fall for him.***Lance McClain believed it though. Star signs & planets aligning & fate & destiny & the universe giving him signs. He believed it all.So when the universe gave him a one Keith Kogane he was confused. Irritated, because all he'd ever done was believe, that good was waiting for him.And when he figured out what he was waiting for was in front of him for so long, he didn't know whether to be thrilled or still irritated.A story in which Keith and Lance are both starting college and find themselves and each other along the way._____________________________I'm reposting it here because I'm rewriting the story, and hopefully going to continue it.
Relationships: Klance - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. PROLOGUE

_**K E I T H** _

_Saturday August 24, 1:34 am_

***

His eyes drifted open, still heavy with sleep. Earphones loud in his ears, the world passing by him in a blur of lights. 

For the past three days, the low rumble of the car's engine lulled him in and out of sleep. The drive from LA to Chicago was draining on Shiro and him. Shiro had to switch universities and Keith had come with him. Not that he'd dragged him, since Keith was starting there as well. 

Shiro was fine with it; he'd got accepted to the university there and was beyond ecstatic. So was Keith. He'd always be happy for his brother and anything that made Shiro stop complaining about his old university made Keith happy. Getting into his dream school had Shiro high on life, but Keith was having a harder transition into U.Altea than Shiro and Krolia had expected. 

A harder time than even he expected.

He'd been excited. Very. 

He hadn't seen his old friends in forever. Well, forever being two years. Two years, with constant messages and face times but it wasn't real. 

Seeing his own face in the reflection of Pidges laptop on her glasses was a constant reminder that he wasn't there with them. That it wasn’t real. Seeing Matt's hair grow longer every day wasn't as real as seeing it in person. So moving closer to them would be easier, he should have been happier.

The feeling of constantly moving didn't help. Never being in one place for long enough oddly enough felt like drowning. Moving so fast, never catching your breath. It got overwhelming at times. 

He moved around in his chair, and Shiro looked at him for a second, "Hello, sleeping beauty."

Keith glared, "It's too early for your shit, Takashi."

"It's 1 am, Kogane," Shiro laughed. The street lights on the road were on, and the high rise buildings in the distance were gleaming.

"Ugh, this whole trip is fucking with my sleep schedule. How am I gonna go to class next week?" Keith grumbled, and squirmed in his seat under his fortress of blankets and pillows.

"You'll be fine. You don't even sleep anyways." Shiro said.

"How long have I been asleep?", Keith stretched his legs out, raising his arms over his head and scrunching up his face. “My legs are starting to seize up.”

Shiro's eyes landed on the clock on the console, "Just over 2 hours."

" _Merge into exit 408 in 2 miles. Exit is approaching on your right._ " The GPS cut in.

"Get the chips from the back, would you?" Keith reached over and rummaged through the back seat, sifting through extra sweaters, suitcases, fast food wrappers, and plastic bags from pit stops at gas stations to get snacks. 

"Thanks," Shiro took the bag of chips from Keith's hand and they both ate in silence from the shared bag of Hot Cheetos, until the 408 came into view. He turned the steering wheel, the clicking of the indicator rang through the car. His shoulder cracked, and Keith wondered if he had been driving the whole day or if they stopped for a bit while he was asleep.

Shiro yawned and Keith looked over. Bags under his eyes, and coffee stain on his shirt made him realize that Shiro had most definitely been driving the whole day. And the whole night.

Of course he would.

"Pull over, we'll switch. You need to sleep," Keith spoke. Shiro side eyed him, and continued eating the chips.

"It's fine, we've only got 2 more hours. I'm not even tire - " Another yawn filled the car

"You're falling asleep at the wheel. I'd like to stay alive, please, so pull over,” Keith insisted, taking his headphones out, throwing them in the back seat along with his mountain of blankets. “I'm driving." 

"Fine,” He pulled over, and Keith awkwardly slid over into the driver seat, and Shiro shuffled his way to the passenger seat, trying not to fall into his brother's lap.

“I'm not even tired, though." He muttered, as Keith turned the indicator back on, it _click_ _click_ _clicking_ as he craned his neck to merge back into the sea of headlights. 

"Whatever you say, Takashi." Keith laughed as the last blur of white light flew past him, and they drove behind it, following its red taillights past the sign on their right, ' _Los Angeles - 200 Miles_ '

"You think you'll be okay while I'm gone?" Shiro said softly after a few minutes, head against the back of the chair, turned to face Keith. 

“We’re literally living together.”

“You know what I mean,” Shiro said back. “When I do the internship.”

"I'm not a kid anymore, Takashi. I'll be okay." He said softly, not taking his eyes off the road. 

"I know. But you're still a kid to me. Always gonna have me." He yawned a third time and Keith laughed a little harder under his breath, "Take care of yourself, Keith."

"Yeah, Yeah. Alright, Dad." Keith laughed. 

Keith spoke into the darkness moments later, "Did you wanna play music?". No answer, "Shiro?"

Keith glanced over to the side, and saw a knocked out Shiro in the passenger seat, snoring softly. His white bangs fell over messily, grazing his eye lids. His breathe made fog on the window, and the blankets were pulled up to his chin. The blurring lights falling on his face, the red and yellow and oranges of the street lights making the scar across his nose sharper than it was.

Keith chuckled. Damn, he was really tired . 

He played his music, singing softly to a song from his phone. The roads around him continued to blur, everything warping as he sped down the freeway. 

The time flew by, with each song merging into another. He hadn't even realized how much time had passed, when they were finally on a street lined with apartment complexes.

" _Your destination is approaching on the right,_ " The GPS spoke, and his heart plummeted to his stomach

Another day, another change. 

Nothing he wasn't used to.

  
  



	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 6k  
> CW: swearing, slight angst

𝒦 𝐸 𝐼 𝒯 𝐻

_Saturday August 31, 7:07 am_

***

He woke up drenched in warm sunlight.

Wait, no. Cold sunlight. Cold sunlight? No, that's not right. Cold, artificial, too bright to be natural light. 

The clicking of a light switch rang throughout the room. His eyelids turned orange, the fluorescent light source directly behind them. _ Click. Click. Click _ . 

He pulled the sheets closer to his chin, mumbling sentences that didn’t even make sense to himself. He’d just ignore the flickering lights - and the person flicking them - until they left Keith alone and let him sleep in peace. He hoped.

Then the sheets started to shift, being pulled slightly off of his leg.

“Ugh, okay, fine, I’m up now.” He grumbled into his pillow, “What do you want from me.” 

This was the same thing Shiro had done the whole week. And well basically their whole life. Randomly waking him up at such an ungodly hour by flicking the lights on and off. Kicking his foot just enough to annoy him into consciousness. 

The room was occupied by boxes. Towers of them. Maybe not towers. Mounds? There were like, five boxes to unpack. Maybe seven. He’d be done in two hours, three tops. He’d been putting it off for a week, sure. But he’d do it today. Today, but not now. Later. Not at seven o’clock in the fucking morning. 

“I don’t want anything. I need you to get up, and unpack. We’ve been here for almost a week and you haven’t touched your boxes, and classes start after tomorrow.” Shiro said, finally pulling the sheets off the mattress. 

His body blocked the sun coming from the glass wall across the room, and when he moved away with the sheet, the cold air in the apartment from the AC washed over his legs. Shiro stepped over him, with hair still dripping wet, and sat on the other side of Keith’s mattress on the floor. They’d bought basic bed frames back home, and Krolia said she would ship it to them, but they hadn’t come in yet, so he’d had to make due.

“It’s seven am, Takashi. On a Saturday. I don’t have time for your shit,” Keith grumbled, curling in on himself, “And besides, I have opened them.” A truth. Not a whole truth, but that still counted, right?

“Opening one box to take out like two shirts since we got here doesn’t count Keith.” Shiro reprimanded, and Keith didn’t need to open his eyes to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll do it. But I’ll do it later, ‘cause its seven fucking am Shiro, not everyone is as excited about the crack of dawn as you.” He finally opened his eyes, glaring at Shiro with still sleep-heavy lids.

Shiro laughed at that, water droplets falling onto Keiths face, “It’s not my fault you like to sleep away your entire existence,” He kicked at Keith’s shin as he got up, with Keith expecting the bed to dip back with the lack of weight but then it doesn't and he remembers he doesn't even have a bed frame so it isn't going to dip, because their stupid IKEA beds hadn’t come in yet. Good for nothing shipping companies, never being on time, “I’m coming back to get you in ten minutes. With a glass of water. Cold.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Keith half sat up, propped on his elbow, facing him.

“Guess we’ll find out in ten minutes.”

He closed the door before Keith could get out a retort, and Keith just groaned, flopping in his bed. 

Shiro’s laugh behind the door sounds fainter as the receding sound of feet against floorboards crept out of earshot.

He might as well get up now, he supposed. He was fully awake anyway. And Shiro pouring a cup of water on him if he fell asleep again wasn’t as appealing as it sounded. 

He stretched out his limbs, and made his way out of bed. An incoherent string of insults fell from his lips as he reached to grab a shirt out of the box. He stared at it for a bit, going back on what Shiro said about only opening the box to grab a shirt. Stupid Shiro for always being right, it’s not even natural. He tossed back the shirt and grabbed a pair of sweatpants instead, because if Shiro gets to wake him up, he doesn't have the power to make him get dressed. Neither is he going to give him the satisfaction of being right about something else. Again.

The floor of his room was freezing under his feet, despite the August weather. It sent shivers up his legs to his shoulders as he walked into the hallway of the new apartment. It was still new to him. He made a move to go to the bathroom, out in the hallway. Then realized that it wasn’t home. Well it was, but not home. He doubled back and went into his bathroom, connected to his room. 

He wasn’t used to the layout of the place, not like he was back home. Back home he could walk around with his eyes closed. He wasn’t bothered though. He’d just have to make due.

The bathroom floor was no different. Cold under his feet, if not colder. Keith grumbled under his breath, glancing at the door as Shiro stuck his head in. “You’re like a wet dog, dripping everywhere.” He didn’t wait to hear Shiro’s response, closing the door on his face. Metal on wood was heard outside the door, prosthetic clanging against the door, followed by more receding footsteps. 

Keith dragged a hand across his face, staring at his reflection. He’d spent the night tossing and turning, never comfortable, and now his hair paid the price. He knew he should have tied it, but he was too tired to care. Future Keith’s problem, he’d thought. Well, Present Keith was ticked at Past Keith. Also at Present Shiro for waking him up at seven am on a fucking Saturday. All this being-pissed-off was not helping his bed head, and he sighed as he tried to finger comb his hair, not to literally rip the hair out of his follicles. 

Hair brushed and mouth not tasting gross anymore, he trudged out to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t the biggest, but it certainly was bigger than most. 

The living room was big, with a glass wall, and a balcony behind a sliding glass door. There was a door in Keiths room that connected to the balcony too. Shiro didn’t even fight Keith when he promptly flung his bag on the floor the second he found out that room had the balcony - he knew Keith would’ve fought him for it. And Shiro didn’t mind that much either. Although they weren’t that high up, it was only the tenth floor, Shiro wasn’t too fond of heights. So a smaller window instead of a glass door reminding him just how high up they were was all he could ask for.

When they first made their way up to the apartment, he thanked whatever celestial beings he could think of for this place to have two bathrooms. He’d shared one with Shiro back home, and saying it was a nightmare was an understatement. Using all the hot water after a run, taking too long to make that tuft of white hair just right. It was too much for Keith to process. It looked like he just left it there when he finished anyways, so why did it always take twenty minutes. 

And the space. Their bathroom back home was the smallest bathroom you could imagine. Shower and tub together, the sink crammed right next to it and a toilet across. They’d had to install and uninstall a lock on the door more times than he could remember, for one reason or another. 

This one was different. Spacious. A full bath and shower. A long mirror. Tiled shower walls. Gray and white aesthetic, the lights being a little bit too bright, but he didn’t mind. Helps him wake up when he needs to.

The only thing wrong with this bathroom was the floor to ceiling glass wall. Who in their right mind would ever think that that was okay. He thought back to when Krolia had told them about the place 

The bedrooms were situated on either side of the bathroom . Keith's first then Shiro’s . And since they were at the end of the hall in the complex, they’d gotten a corner apartment. 

They had a pretty decent kitchen as well, with an island and barstool chairs and everything. 

Well, there would be barstools around the island, and an actual dishwasher in the spot by the edge of the counter, and an actual stove, if the shipping company got their shit together and sent their furniture. The apartment had been eerily empty with just mattresses in each room, and the living room stacked with boxes instead of actual furniture. 

He sat himself on a box, one that was not labeled fragile. His head slumped forward, hair falling down his face, tickling the exposed skin on his back.. He was not looking forward to Shiro telling him to open his boxes again after today, so he’d have to get it done. And besides, the semester started the day after tomorrow. He’d have to do it anyway.

“He got you too?” A voice, rough with sleep, said from behind him. He smirked, as he heard the sleep driven shuffle of slippers on the hardwood floor.

“Yeah. Got you too it seems.” Keith said, finally looking up. Adam looked over at him with sleep heavy eyes.

“Why is he so hellbent on waking up before the sun every single morning?” Adam sighed, grabbing the box of Eggo waffles from the freezer. He held it up and Keith held up two fingers. Adam took out four and put them in the four slot toaster. A gift from Krolia before they left. 

_ “I just know you boys are going to fight over who gets breakfast first. Here, take it.”  _

_ “Krolia, we don’t need this. Keep it-” _

_ “Hush. Take it. I will not have you two fighting over who gets to toast a stupid piece of bread every day the whole way through college,” Krolia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Ugh, just thinking about it gives me a headache. Take it, Shiro, or so help me god-” _

_ “Okay, okay, we’ll take the toaster. Thank you.” _

He’d slept over the night before to help Shiro unpack. Well, that’s what he’d said he was over for. All three of them knew he was here to be with Shiro. Long distance relationships were always hard, and Shiro and Adam were no exception. They’d been dating since high school, senior year, so that had been - 5 years? 

There had been a break up halfway through, though. Keith didn’t even know something could be mutual but also  _ not  _ until this break. They’d both agreed on it, but only for the sake of the other, the whole time complaining to Keith. Adam called him to wallow in his misery, sentences consisting of “Ugh, I miss him so much, Keith.” and “Why would I even say that we should take a break?” and “I’m so stupid. Keith, does he even talk about me?”. 

Shiro talked about it less frequently to Keith, but when he did, he did so more insistently. “Keith, I know he calls you. Does he say anything about me? Please, tell me he does. Ugh, why did we even think a break was a good idea?” 

Both of them thought the other had wanted it. Wanted time to focus on themselves. Both of them being stupidly wrong. Both of them thinking a break would be best because of stress and long distance and whatever else made them take a break. Neither of them really wanted it, but only did it because they thought the other needed it. And they would do anything for each other. 

It was sweet, Keith thought then. Sweet but stupid. Make yourself hurt for what you thought the person you loved wanted. Sweet but stupid.

Adam had flown out to see Shiro, a month and a half into the break, because Shiro had drunk called him. That was enough to break him. He booked a flight to LA, from Chicago, and only told Keith that he was in the city, once he landed. Krolia had driven down to pick him from the airport. Keith was in charge of keeping Shiro preoccupied until Adam got to the house. 

Adam came into the house the moment Shiro started complaining about the break again. And when Adam had heard Shiro say he hated the break, never wanted it to begin with, only agreed to it because Adam wanted it, he stepped out from where he stood in the foreir. 

_ “I never wanted it, you dipshit.” Adam said, and Shiro froze in place. He turned around slowly, and Keith found himself smiling, watching it unfold in front of him. Shiros face falling, then he smiled, the brightest he’d ever seen Shiro smile.  _

_ Then he started tearing up. That’s when Adam moved across the living room. Turned to Shiro, strides across the floor purposeful, and filled with love and emotion, as if that were even possible. Steps filled with the distance between them and the longing they both had for each other and the love they had for each other that was projected in the way they looked at each other. _

_ “I missed you.” Shiro’s voice cracked. _

_ “I missed you too,” Adam said, his hands coming around Shiro’s wrists, “ God, I missed you. So much.”  _

_ And when he said that, Shiro broke. They both broke, and hugged and cried and laughed and fell to their knees with their heads pressed to the others shoulder and Keith felt tight in the chest as Krolia placed a hand on his shoulder, a small smile gracing her face as well. And they both left, feeling like they were invading a private moment.  _

“Well, he’s  _ your  _ boyfriend, and he never did that before you,” Keith smirked, “So I say it’s your own fault.” 

“Yeah, well, that was before I figured out how much of a blessing sleep was when you're a college student.” He grumbled before downing the glass of water he poured for himself. 

He looked worse than Keith, with his hair - which had grown last since Keith had seen him, another thing that made Keith remember he was away from the people he was close to for far too long - was disheveled, flat against one side from sleep. He hadn’t even put his glasses on and the bags under his eyes were more visible. His shirt, a soft dark gray with NASA across the front in a fading font, from how old it was, a few sizes too big, considering it was Shiro’s. Pajamas bottoms too long for his legs, scrunched up against his Bart Simpson slipper, the red and blue and black stripes making the yellow of Bart’s face way too bright.

Adam yawned as he started a pot of coffee. As tired as Adam looked, it reminded Keith of where he was. With the people he cared about. Not talking to them through a screen that pixelated their faces because of sketchy college dorm WIFI. He had seen Pidge and Matt the first day they got into Chicago, and he’d felt better. Hugged them and forced himself not to tear up, because they would never let him hear the end of it. He was happy. For the first time in a long while.

“Good, you’re both up.” Shiro’s voice entered the kitchen. They both looked over at him, and gaped at how awake he looked. 

Well, Keith did. Adam was probably gaping for different reasons, that Keith did  _ not  _ want to think about his brother in. 

He had on a tank top - way too tight, for no reason, other than that his boyfriend was here - dark gray sweatpants, and an honest to god neon pink and black striped headband in his hair, a stark contrast to the white bangs that it held from his face.

“No thanks to you,” Keith grumbled. The toaster popped up and Keith reluctantly stomped over to it, throwing them on a plate and taking the syrup Adam handed to him absentmindedly, drenching his waffles.

Shiro sat on the floor - because they had no furniture - cross legged, against the box Keith was sitting on before. “How do you guys eat that stuff? It's just sugar.”

“Some of us like sugar, Shiro,” Adam quipped, hopping up on the island to sit and wait for his coffee, “Just like how some of us actually enjoy letting the sun get up before we do.”

Shiro laughed, “I went out for a run. I let you guys sleep for another 2 hours after I got up.”

“How did you guys even come from the same house?’ Adam directed at Keith, around a piece of waffle, as he stuffed a piece of his own waffle into his mouth.

“How are you guys even dating? '' He countered, voice monotone, but his chest tightened slightly in happiness. He liked how happy Shiro got around Adam. He deserved to be happy after everything that’s happened to them.

Not that he’d say that aloud. He’d never hear the end of it.

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” Adam said, grabbing 3 mugs from the cupboard, pouring their coffee, and Shiro’s cheeks went pink. Keith made a show of visibly gagging, and Adam flipped him off.

It still amazed Keith, how even after dating for so long, his brother still got flustered over the smallest of compliments.

“Yeah, whatever. Go sleep the rest of your youth away. I don’t care.” Shiro teased, and Adam handed him his mug of coffee. He kissed Shiro’s head, and Shiro’s face went redder as he smiled. 

They all sat around for a bit, Adam beside Shiro on the floor and Keith on the island, eating waffles drinking coffee, and talking about school starting and Adam’s new job, and Shiro’s new classes, as well as Keith starting classes as well.

Keith missed this. The familiarity of it all. He missed it.

“‘Kay, as much as I love talking with you both about school at seven in the morning on Saturday, I need to take a shower.” Adam got up from the floor, cracking his back, “When is your furniture supposed to come in?”

“It was supposed to come in two days ago. They said it’d be another like, 3 days at most.” Shiro said, getting up too, and putting both their mugs in the sink.

“Okay, yeah. Well, off to shower I guess.” And he left down the hall. Shiro and Keith talked a bit more while he showered, about Krolia saying she was going to visit in a few weeks, about Matt and his new girlfriend, and when their schedules had open spots at the same time.

“Alright. I need to go get some WIFI and whatever,” Keith said, dropping his plate in the sink, as Adam turned off the shower, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You have to finish unpacking today,” Shiro said, as he walked off to his room, to change.

“Yeah, I’ve got the rest of the day. It’ll be unpacked don’t worry.” 

“Alright,” Shiro said, as Keith closed the door to his bedroom. Keith chuckled at Shiro’s voice muffled behind the door as he said, “How do I always get stuck on dish duty?”

He changed into a black t-shirt and ripped black jeans, although half of the cuts he’d done himself. Rummaging around in the one box he’d opened when they first got here, he fished out a blue shirt, and groaned, tossing it over onto the mattress . The next thing he grabbed was a flannel. Basic, but it would make do. Red and black plaid around his waist, he grabbed his olive green messenger bag, covered in pins and patchwork and doodles. His laptop and charger were stuffed inside, as well as his sketchbook and pencils. Never left anywhere without it.

Phone in hand, he left his room, and walked to the front door. He passed Adam walking out of the bathroom, with his head wrapped in a towel and one around his waist, glasses slightly fogged from the steam.

“Is that even necessary? You don’t even have that much hair to dry?” Keith questioned, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

“Don’t hate my routine when you don’t care about your own hair, kiddo,” Adam said, over dramatically ruffling Keith’s hair. He swatted his hand away, walking out the door, with Shiro and Adam laughing behind him. He called over his shoulder, “Call me if you need me to pick anything up.”

“Yeah, sure.” Shiro said, and Keith grabbed his red leather jacket and stuffed his feet into his black and red checkered vans.

“Be careful,” Shiro called and Keith locked the front door.

And he left the apartment. With his bike helmet under his arm, he rode the elevator down. He passed the front lobby. The swivel doors were occupied by someone holding a bunch of boxes, so he took the side door. 

He fiddled with his keys, looking for the one to his bike lock. He didn’t notice the person walking towards him, boxes covering his face. Not until they crashed into each other. 

“Oh my god, shit. Shit, shit, no. No, oh my god,” The strangers rambled, grasping at the boxes that started teetering to the side, dangerously close to falling over. Keith threw his hands out to stabilize them, his hand coming over the other guy's hand.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t see you.” He said to Keith. He poked his head around the boxes, and smiled at Keith. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” Keith said, taking his hands off the boxes after making sure they weren’t gonna fall, and smiled slightly, “Sorry about bumping into you. Wasn’t watching where I was going either.”

“No worries. Thanks for not letting me drop these,” He smiled and moved out of the way for Keith to get through. He waved and the boy stuck out two fingers as a salute, and went into the building, talking to the guy who went in through the swivel doors.

Keith got his keys out and unlocked his bike chain from the back of the complex. He stuffed his messenger bag in the compartment in his motorcycle, and texted Pidge to say he was leaving to go to the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet up at the night before. 

**Keef Ko(gay)ne**

i’ll be there in like, 20 minutes

u better be up 

and there

**Pidge(on)**

don’t tell me ur awake 

a l r e a d y 

dude its 8 am

im nOT leaving my bed this early 

good bye sir

**Keef Ko(gay)ne**

ill give you like 10 minutes after i get there

then im leaving

its not even my fault 

u knooo shiros got sum competition with the sun to see who can get up earlier

**Pidge(on)**

LMFAOOO

hes prolly winning too

uuuuuuugh fine

20*

**Keef Ko(gay)ne**

whatever

just be there

and pidge i swear to god

if its some basic bitch place with watered down shit im gonna kill u

**Pidge(on)**

ur lack of faith in me is wounding

u wont be mad trust me

He pocketed his phone, sighing and zipped the pocket of the leather jacket he wore. Extra precautions. He’d broken his last phone that way. His bank account was not happy about it. He pulled his hair out of his face and tied it in a low ponytail, tugging his helmet on. The bike revved, and the low rumble of the engine was enough to set him into a familiar rhythm. Kick up the stand, put his leather gloves on, twist the handle bars, speed out the parking lot.

The wind got stuck in his jacket, and sent a welcomed breeze up his shirt. It helped his mind relax, the familiar feeling of his jacket wiping behind him as the wind rushed through it. He loved the feeling. The familiarity. It was always something he could rely on. Something to ground him, when everything got too much for him. He’d grab his helmet, and just drive. Back in Texas, he’d drive for hours down the dusty trains behind his parents house. Even though he hadn’t had a motorcycle then, and he was a child, he’d ride his bicycle for hours and hours in their backyard until his mom would call him in for dinner.

Then when his dad died from a firefighter accident when he was 10. He ran into a building, when everyone had told him not to go. He hadn’t listened. He was a Kogane, never backing down from a challenge. His mom packed them up and left right after the funeral. She said it was to get a new start, make a life for them somewhere else. So Texas would always be in their memories, but only the good ones.

Even then, he knew she just wanted to escape. Escape from the freshest memories, not the countless others where his father was present.

So they packed up, and moved. To LA. It had been impulsive. She’d applied for a position at the art gallery in the city, never really thinking she’d get called back. When she did, he remembered her being over the moon.

He’d gotten there, and always rode his bike around the neighborhood. To and from school. To the corner store. To hockey practice. That had been hard, for an 11 year old to go to practice with all his equipment on his back, and keep control of a bike. Krolia drove him after he tried once.

And while they were there, she met her future husband. They hadn’t gotten along with each other at first. Both insanely competitive, but never failing to compliment the other on their pieces. Friendly competition. They started hanging out, they started dating, they had their children meet at Bring Your Kid To Work Day. Shiro had taken a liking to Keith, and the two found out they were going to the same school. Even when they weren’t technically step siblings yet, he had always looked up to Shiro, from the second they met. So when, 4 years later, their parents got married, Keith was ecstatic. He was going to have a family again. 

He still rode his bike, but not to escape anything. Because he liked his life now. Enjoyed waking up, having breakfast with his mom and her fiancé, and fighting over who got to use the bathroom first with his step-bro to be.

Everything was great. The wedding was sickeningly sweet. His mom looked beautiful in her dress. Shiro’s dad cried. Shiro teared up, his friend Matt sat beside him, also beaming with happiness. Matt’s younger sister, Katie, who insisted on being called Pidge - _ “What kind of name is Pidge?” 11 year old Keith had asked the 8 year old Pidge. “It’s my name. Matt gave it to me. Better than a boring name like Keef,” She said, a tooth missing from the corner of her mouth” -  _ sat beside Keith, smiling up at them, glasses way too big for her face.

Everything was great. They were a family. Went on vacations. Shiro was the best big brother he could’ve asked for, and Shiro’s dad was really nice to him, and although he wasn’t like his own dad, Keith accepted him really quickly.

Everything was fine, until 3 years ago. 

Keith shook his head. He didn’t want to go back there. It was a new beginning, Shiro had said on the way up to Chicago. A fresh start. Away from all the messiness of their past. Not that they were trying to escape when the opportunity arose, but they certainly did not turn it down. 

He arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes after texting Pidge. He parked the bike across the street from the café, killing the engine. He stepped off the bike, and took his helmet off, shaking out his hair from the loose ponytail it was in. Grabbing his bag from the compartment in his motorcycle, he stared up at the sign for the café

When Pidge had told him to go to the  _ Lion’s Café _ , saying it was the “the best coffee shop near campus”, what he was met with certainly wasn’t at all how he’d pictured it. Glass walls outlined the café, and even with the glare from the sun, he could see the many potted plants hanging from the ceiling against the glass. The sign was bold, each letter looping and connecting with another, in a gold cursive font. A blue coffee cup with gold swirls of steam was put in place of the tittle for the letter “i”.

Inside was no less intriguing. The counter was old, rustic, worn. Full of character. A glass display case for the pastries was tall, chest height, gold accents around the rims. Chalk boards hung over the wall behind the counter, the menu in swirly, colorful, cursive writing. Doodle’s of coffee cups and pastries adorned the corners of the boards.

The walls on either side were brick, colors ranging in warm tones, browns, dark burgundy, black, beige, with white cement between each block. Scattered art work lined the walls, white floating shelves a sharp contrast, each adorned in small potted plants. On the wall opposite from the front door, there was a large, floor-to-ceiling length mirror. The tables were made to look like the ring of a tree, with metallic seats on either side of them. 

What really stood out to him was the room and wall on the far end of the café. Through the arch way, hung a curtain of beads. Inside, two couches with a mismatch of throw pillows sat on each side of the small room at the end of the café. There were a few tables behind the couches, still the same design as the seating area in the front. But the walls, the wall’s of the back room were what caught his attention.

The walls of the room were covered in books. Head to toe. All books, crammed into the shelves, books piled into the corners of the room, books piled on the corner tables on either side of either couch. He ran his hands along the books on the shelf. So many different books. Fiction, non-fiction, old, new, big, small, paperback, hardcover. There were so many. He looked up at the lights on the ceiling- Faerie lights hung along the ceiling, in a mismatch pattern. 

It looked like something straight out of a movie. Or a book, whatever. Definitely something fictional. It didn’t look real.

And it was this close to campus?

Keith knew exactly where he would be hanging out between classes now.

He sat down on the couch, and opened his laptop, connecting to the cafe’s WIFI. He’d been there for a little over another the minutes when Pidge came through the door. 

Keith stifled a laugh, a grin plastering against his face. Pidge looked...the same. The same as always. Tired, bags under her eyes. She had on her favorite green pullover, with an awkward collar that sat somewhere on the line between crew neck and turtleneck - and honestly, it was 80 degrees, he didn’t understand how she wore long sleeves all the time and hadn’t passed out from heat stroke yet. She had on cargo pants, probably Matt’s, probably something she grabbed from the laundry. Her backpack hung off of one shoulder, as she ordered something from the cash. 

“Hey,” He said, when she sat down. More like collapsed, into the spot opposite from him on the couch.

“Why did you make me come here so early?” She groaned, arm over her eyes, head thrown against the back of the couch. 

“Blame Shiro,” He grumbled, and turned back to his computer, tabs upon tabs of job applications open. 

Pidge sat up more, turning over to face him, grinning, while taking her laptop out of her bag, “So, how’re you liking the Lion?” 

“It’s cool. Not what I expected,” Keith said, not taking his eyes off his screen. It was more than cool, way better than cool. It was probably going to be his new favorite place, but he’d never let Pidge know that. 

“Oh come on. It’s great. And I literally work here dude, you have to give it some credit,” She said, starting up the computer.

Keith turned his head, “You work here? You said you worked at a -”

“At a coffee shop? Yeah, this one,” She grinned.

“It’s cool. Aesthetic. Might draw it or something.”

“Must be pretty great for Keith Kogane to draw it, huh.”

He smiled softly, “Must be.”

And they sat in silence for a while, with Keith’s eyes scanning for applications, and sending resume’s and sending emails to Kijiji ad’s, and Pidge’s steady typing filling the air. Her coffee came a few minutes after - worker came over and passed it to her, and Pidge later told him her name was Ezor - and the silence washed over them again. 

It was nice. He missed this. The comfortable silence they could get into, enjoying each others presence. It was familiar, and he reveled in it, since he didn’t get too much familiarity in his life. And he knew she understood how he valued their friendship so much. Even if he didn’t express it in so many words. She helped him, with grounding him, with being there for him, for pushing him out of his comfort zone. 

Well, maybe he spoke too soon.

“Dude, there’s this party tonight. Some ex-frat boy or something. His parties are known campus wide, according to Matt. Legendary stories,” Pidge said, as they were packing up to go back to go back to Keith’s place. He’d roped her into helping him unpack his last few boxes. 

“Keith, I am not unpacking your boxes for you. Haven’t you been here for like a whole week? Why haven’t you done it yet?”

“Didn’t it take you like, a month to finish unpacking your stuff when you moved here?” Keith countered, eyebrow raised, “I distinctly remember Colleen yelling at you through over Skype to unpack.”

“I’m like, 5’2. I can’t be expected to unpack everything so quick, when I can’t even reach the top shelf.”

“Whatever. I’ll buy you McDonalds if you come over.”

“I am offended that you think I will cave that easily.”

“And a tub of cookie dough.”

“Fine.” 

“Okay, that’s cool. I guess,” He said, looking skeptically at her grin that would’ve put the Cheshire cat to shame, “Why are you telling me this?”

“‘Cause you’re coming.” She said. “And before you even say no, Shiro already knows. And he said that you should go.”

“Shiro wants me to unpack my boxes. Not go to a party.” He said exasperated. He held the door open for her to pass, and they made their way to Keith’s motorcycle.

“Pidge no I swear this is really not my scene.”

“You’re the worst liar. I can't even count off how many times you snuck out to go to parties back home,” She glared, tightening the straps of the backpack, so it wouldn’t fall off while they drove. “And how many stories you’ve told me over facetime.”

“Okay, fine. But I don’t know. I think I’m just gonna watch stuff. Not feeling up to it.”

“You will be. Don’t worry kiddo -”

“I’m literally 2 years older than you, but go off.”

“-We’re gonna unpack your stuff and make it all sparkly and pretty and then you’re gonna get ready to kill all the boys at the party,” She said, her grin falling from her face as he shoved the helmet into her arms, “Do I have to wear this? It probably has like lice or something.” 

“Do you want to bash your head in if you fall off?”

“You would never let me fall off,” She smirked, reluctantly putting the helmet on, “You’re too much of a hero.” 

Keith swung his leg over the bike, and kicked up the kick stand. He started the motorcycle, and Pidge’s arms tightened around his waist.

“Debatable.” He said over the roar of the engine.


End file.
